Emerald Icicles
by Glissa Sunseeker
Summary: She was different; she had always been. She had never been cut out to work in a joke shop. And she couldn’t take it any longer. (NOT a Ginny fic, though there are Weasleys.)


**Summary:** She was different; she had always been. She had never been cut out to work in a joke shop. And she couldn't take it any longer. (NOT a Ginny fic, though there are Weasleys.)

**Pairings:** (I feel I have to do this 'cause there are so many.) Fred/Angelina, George/OC, Ron/Hermione, Ginny/Draco

**Disclaimer:** I do not own HP. I own Emerald, though.

**Author's Note:** I hope you like this, it's my take on many things. Oh, and if you can spot the cameo, you get a special mention next chapter!__

**Emerald Icicles** Alone 

She lay, face-up, on her bed, her eyes opened wide and staring at the ceiling through the veil of darkness. This was her favorite time of day, the only time she could really, truly be alone. The soft early-morning grayness wrapped around her, enfolded her, accepted her for who she was, not who others wished her to be.

She closed her eyes, listening to the sound her breathing. Though she could not see it, she could still feel the comforting dim light on her face, in a way she could not feel anything else.

A rustling sound from elsewhere in her room interrupted her meditation, and she turned on her side to look over at the other bed in the room.

Kat, whose full name was Kaitlin; Kat, the star Quidditch player, even thought she was only nineteen; Kat, the oldest girl-child; Kat, the epitome of both her parents. The brilliant orange of Kat's hair shone through the shadowy room, and she knew that when Kat woke, she would be smiling and laughing at the world.

How there had been two girls born in the same generation, no one knew. Kat was the first, her cousin, and no one had expected another. But she though it had something to do with her mother.

She could not remember her mother, who had died while her daughter was young. All she knew was her mother's name was Sha're, she had named her, and that she, the daughter, looked like Sha're.

Emerald glanced again at her cousin's ginger head, and then at her own obsidian curls. So different form her father's, her cousins', her grandparents'. She was not a Weasley in appearance, not at all.

And her eyes – she knew not if her mother had had some foresight, or if it was simply chance, but her eyes were a vivid, unearthly green.

She knew that her hair, her face, her height, even, were her mother's legacy, and her father knew it too, but no one knew how it came about that the birth-blue of her eyes turned to such a vibrant color.

She was alone, always, but in the morning, before everyone else awake, she was also at peace. It was the only time. She could not help but see the pain in her father's face when he looked at his only daughter, mirror image of her mother. Emerald knew that, whatever he said, her father had never stopped loving Sha're.

And she, too, loved her father, but this was not the life for her. She was not meant to work in a joke shop, like her father and uncle. She could not turn to Quidditch, like Kat had; she had been on the team at school, and Emerald hadn't. Besides, she hardly ever flew anymore. She had buried herself ever deeper in her studies, instead, and hid herself from the tearful gazes of relatives by getting almost all Outstanding O.W.Ls and a mix of E's. O's, and A's on all her N.E.W.T.s.

But that was her problem. She was out of school – she had graduated with flying colors – but she didn't know what she was going to do with her life. She had come back home, for a while. Most people had taken this to mean she was going to work at the store, which she did, some of the time. But the customers were starting to notice the barely-hid tears in their cashier's eyes, and many of them didn't believe she was related to the store owners. Emerald didn't blame them. She wouldn't've, either, if she were them.

But that wasn't what she wanted, to spend all her time amongst people who had never known what it was like to be different, to not be accepted by your own father. She wanted to get a job somewhere far, far, away from London, far away from her family, to a place where people would accept her for her, like the before-dawn light.

She had considered working with dragons, but that would mean she would probably have to see her uncle Charlie. Working with ancient spells and such would be interesting, but that would need more study, which she wasn't ready for yet. Emerald didn't want to have to decide the course of her life yet.

But it seemed like everyone else wanted her to.

And this wasn't what she wanted to do with her life.

Then it hit her. What was she waiting for? Emerald climbed out of her bed and pulled her trunk out of the closet. She whispered an Enlargement spell as she started shoving her clothes inside – at least, the clothes that she wore. Her aunt Angelina had bought her so many clothes, Muggle and Wizarding alike, and Emerald barely wore half of them.

Her books were next. She gently placed them around the sides of the trunk, then placed some on top of her clothes. A few other things were swept in, and she was finished. She surveyed what she had in her trunk; it was very little – she hardly needed the spell.

But the room was still filled with things. Shelves were covered, the floor littered with belongings, all of them Kat's. Emerald was not a _thing_ person. Her books were enough, a retreat from the world, a place where no one cared that her hair was jet black, not red.

She locked up her trunk and crept quietly down the stairs. Dawn's light was beginning to filter in through the windows as she crossed the floor and, taking her key from where it had been in her pocket, unlocked the door. She could have used a spell, but her wand was stowed away in her trunk right now. She would have to get it out later, but right now, it would make too much noise.

She slipped through the door and locked it behind her. Diagon Alley was still quiet, still sleeping. Not for long, though. Soon the wizards and witches would get up, go to work. In a few minutes, her father would call, "Em! Kat! Wake up!"

But she wouldn't be there. She probably should have left a note, something, to let them know she was leaving. But they had never really cared before, and if they had, they had never shown it. The one time she could remember anyone caring about her as _her_, not the star student, was when she had been two or three. She had fallen down the stairs, and she could remember wailing and wailing, and no one coming, then gentle arms wrapping around her, a sweet voice saying something, and then she had stopped crying. She couldn't remember who it had been, but she had always had a feeling that it was her mother, whose face she could not recall.

Emerald moved away from the place she had called home for seventeen years, down the street, dragging her trunk behind her. She didn't dare stop until she was well away from them, from her house.

Then she sat down on the side of the road and unlocked her trunk. She pulled her wand out, and waited for the Knight Bus to arrive. Where would she go?

She thought about it for a few seconds, then realized there was one place she could go. One other person who had left their family behind. One other like her, one other who had been different.

That was where she would go.


End file.
